Reading and Revelations 3
by tartan-angel
Summary: The third in the series of 'Reading and Revelations'. WARNING: A prisoner within.
1. JK Rowling Doesn't Muck About

READING AND REVALATIONS 3

"Has the door opened yet, Harry?" enquired Neville.

"Oh, I hope not," said Luna airily, "I am rather enjoying this." Ron just glared at her; it was obvious that he wasn't taking well to their experience.

Yet again, the door would not open so Harry asked for more entertainment and was presented with yet another Harry Potter book. This one had a purple spine and the title 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban'.

"Would anybody mind if I started off the reading this time?" asked Ginny.

Everyone agreed to allow her to read as they all settled once again with fresh glasses of Butterbeer or Firewhiskey.

**Chapter One: Owl Post**

**Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways.**

Minerva: What a charming start!

Harry: I am sure we have established this already!

Ron: But it is true.

(Hermione nudges him hard in the ribs).

Harry: Thanks Hermione.

Hermione: No problem.

**For one thing, he hated the summer holidays more than any other time of the year.**

George (shocked): What?

Harry: I hated the summer holidays, okay?

Minerva: Well I'm not surprised, having to live with those awful Dursleys.

George: Now, now Professor. Now is not the time for another one of your Anti-Dursley tirades.

(Minerva huffs)

**For another, he really wanted to do his homework,**

George: You what? You, mate, are sounding more like Hermione every day.

**but was forced to do it in secret, in the dead of the night. And he also happened to be a wizard.**

Ron: No kidding. J K Rowling doesn't mess around does she?

**It was nearly midnight, and he was lying on his front in bed, the blankets drawn right over his head like a tent, a torch in one hand and a large leather-bound book (**_**A History of Magic**_**, by Bathilda Bagshot)**

Harry: I think I still have that book somewhere.

Horace: I find it amazing how a book that interesting can be made so boring when taught to students.

Minerva: Well, Horace, I do not recall you trying to make our lessons very interesting when I was at school. And, unless you would be willing to take up the post of History of Magic teacher, I would stop complaining.

(Horace merely looks down at his hands).

**propped open against the pillow. Harry moved the tip of his eagle-feather quill down the page, frowning as he looked for something that would help him write his essay, 'Witch-Burning in the Fourteenth Century was Completely Pointless – discuss'.**

Ron: More like 'lessons taught by Professor Binns are completely pointless – discuss'.

Minerva: Muggles were generally terrible at witch-burning. They only managed to kill a few who had been disarmed.

**The quill paused at the top of a likely-looking paragraph. Harry pushed his round glasses up his nose, moved his torch closer to the book and read:**

George: What outstanding writing.

'_**Non-magic people (more commonly known as Muggles) were particularly afraid of magic on medieval times, but not very good at recognising it. On the rare occasion that they did catch a real witch or wizard, burning had no effect whatsoever. The witch or wizard would perform a basic Flame-Freezing Charm and then pretend to shriek with pain while enjoying a gentle, tickling sensation.**_

Hermione: Hang on, what about when the flames go out and they are supposed to have burnt to death.

Luna: The Ringed Mallards would save them.

Neville: I'm not even going to ask.

_**Indeed, Wendelin the Weird **_

George: Why is it that the people in these books always have strange titles like Wendelin the Weird or Bernard the Baffled?

_**enjoyed being burned so much that she allowed herself to be caught no fewer than forty-seven times in various disguises.**_

Horace: People do strange things sometimes.

Hermione: Trust me, after years of knowing these two (gestures to Ron and Harry) you get used to strange things happening.

Ron and Harry: Shut. Up.

**Harry put his quill between his teeth and reached underneath his pillow for his ink and a roll of parchment.**

Luna: You kept ink under your pillow?

Harry: It was the only place they wouldn't find, okay?

**Slowly and very carefully he unscrewed the ink bottle, dipped his quill into it and began to write, pausing every now and then to listen, because if any of the Dursleys heard the scratching of his quill on their way to the bathroom, he'd probably find himself locked in the cupboard under the stairs for the rest of the summer.**

(Minerva grinds her teeth together).

Ginny: Err… I'll just carry on then.

**The Dursley family of**

Ron: Pigs?

Luna: Snarklacks?

George: Overgrown slugs?

Ginny: Will you just let me read?

**number four, Privet Drive was the reason that Harry never enjoyed his summer holidays. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and their son, Dudley,**

Minerva and Ron (muttering): Damn Dursleys!

(They just look awkwardly at each other).

**were Harry's only living relatives.**

Horace: Poor boy! How ever did you manage to live with them?

Harry: Well, it was partly through thinking that I wouldn't be there long, and partly through dreams of cursing them into oblivion.

Luna: That's not healthy, Harry.

**They were Muggles, and they had a very medieval attitude towards magic. Harry's dead parents,**

(Both Hermione's and Minerva's eyes well up with tears).

**who had been a witch and wizard themselves, were never mentioned under the Dursleys' roof.**

Ron: Damn Dursleys!

Ginny: Are you going to say that every time they do something wrong?

Ron: Yes.

Hermione: Buckle down; it's going to be a long night!

**For years, Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon had hoped that if they kept Harry as downtrodden as possible, they would be able to squash the magic out of him.**

Ron: Damn Dur-

George and Ginny: Shut. Up. Now!

Horace: What kind of idiot believes that you can squash magic out?

George: Can't you?

Minerva: You are born magical; there is nothing you can do about it. It is both a gift and a curse, depending on which way you see it. Besides, if you could I would have done it to the Pink Toad years ago.

Harry: Pink Toad?

Hermione: Do you really have to ask Harry?

Ron: It's Umbridge, mate.

Harry: Oh, that explains it.

**To their fury, they had been unsuccessful, and now lived in terror of anyone finding out that Harry had spent most of the last two years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.**

Neville (shouting at the book): Better there than in the Muggle world!

Ron: The book can't hear you!

Luna: Actually, there are some –

George: We really don't want to know right now.

(Luna huffs and crosses her arms).

**The most the Dursleys could do these days was to lock away Harry's spellbooks, wand, cauldron and broomstick at the start of the summer holidays, and forbid him to talk to the neighbours.**

Ginny: Oh, that's awful! You must've been so bored.

Harry: Actually I preferred it that way; most of the neighbours were nosy gits.

**This separation from his spellbooks had been a real problem for Harry, because his teachers at Hogwarts had given him a lot of holiday work.**

Harry: Yes, why _did_ you give us so much holiday work?

(Minerva and Horace look at each other).

Minerva: Well, I could give you the reason that we tend to give out or I can tell you the real reason.

Harry: The real reason.

Minerva: Because we, as teachers, spend almost _all_ of our free time marking _your _essays so we decided that you lot should suffer a little during your holidays.

Hermione: What was the other reason?

Minerva: That we don't want you to forget everything over the holidays.

**One of the essays, a particularly nasty one about Shrinking Potions, was for Harry's least favourite teacher, Professor Snape, who would be delighted to have an excuse to give Harry detention for a month.**

Ron: Git.

**Harry had therefore seized his chance in the first week of the holidays. While Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia and Dudley had gone out into the front garden to admire Uncle Vernon's new company car**

Horace: Actually, I know a rather amusing story about a car, a-

(Minerva starts banging her head on the table).

Neville: Are you alright, Minerva?

(All, except Horace, look at Neville. Did he just call her by her first name?).

Neville: What? She's my boss now. I'm not a student anymore; I don't need to call her 'Professor'.

**(in very loud voices, so that the rest of the street would notice it too),**

Minerva: Pride is a sin.

Horace: Like you can talk!

Minerva: Shut it. (muttering) Overgrown walrus.

(George just stares at them).

Ginny: Are they always like that?

Neville: Pretty much.

**Harry had crept downstairs, picked the lock on the cupboard under the stairs, grabbed some of his books and hidden them in his bedroom. As long as he didn't leave spots of ink on the sheets, the Dursleys need never know that he was studying magic by night.**

Ginny: What'd you do with Hedwig?

Harry: She was out delivering letters.

George: Hence the title 'Owl Post'.

**Ron Weasley, who was one of Harry's best friends at Hogwarts, came from a whole family of wizards. This meant that he knew a lot of things Harry didn't, but had never used a telephone before.**

Ron: I don't like the sound of this.

**Most unluckily, it had been Uncle Vernon who had answered the call.**

Neville: Oh, that can't be good.

'**Vernon Dursley speaking.'**

**Harry, who happened to be in the room at the time, froze as he heard Ron's voice answer.**

Ron (whining): Please can we skip this bit?

George: No little brother, you never know, I might get some good blackmail material out of this.

'**HELLO? HELLO? CAN YOU HEAR ME? I – WANT – TO – TALK – TO – HARRY – POTTER!'**

**Ron was yelling so loudly that Uncle Vernon jumped **

Minerva: It's a wonder there wasn't an earthquake.

**and held the receiver a foot away from his ear, staring at it with an expression of mingled fury and alarm.**

(All snicker, barring Luna and Minerva).

Hermione: Oh, Ron, why did you shout?

Ron: It was my first time!

Luna (dreamily): What's a telephone?

Neville: It's a Muggle communication device.

Luna: Oh…

'**WHO IS THIS?' he roared in the direction of the mouthpiece. 'WHO ARE YOU?'**

'**RON – WEASLEY!' Ron bellowed back, as though he and Uncle Vernon were speaking from opposite ends of a football pitch. 'I'M - A – FRIEND – OF – HARRY'S – FROM – SCHOOL -'**

George: Wrong thing to say.

Ron: I know that now.

**Uncle Vernon's small eyes swivelled around to Harry, who was rooted to the spot.**

Luna: That sounds painful, Harry.

Hermione: It's just the way that it's written Luna. He wasn't actually rooted to the floor.

'**THERE IS NO HARRY POTTER HERE!'**

Ginny: Dirty rotten liar!

**he roared, now holding the receiver at arm's length, as though frightened it might explode. 'I DON'T KNOW WHAT SCHOOLYOU'RE TALKING ABOUT! NEVER CONTACT ME AGAIN! DON'T YOU COME NEAR MY FAMILY!'**

George: Looks like the great lump really was afraid of wizards.

Minerva: And for good reason because I swear if I ever get my hands on that-

Horace (louder than Minerva): Please continue reading!

**And he threw the receiver back onto the telephone as if dropping a poisonous spider.**

Neville: Actually, there aren't that many poisonous spiders.

**The row that followed had been one of the worst ever.**

Ron: Unsurprising.

George: Don't forget that you caused it, Ronnie!

Ron: Don't call me Ronnie!

'**HOW DARE YOU GIVE THIS NUMBER TO PEOPLE LIKE – PEOPLE LIKE **_**YOU?'**_

Minerva: 'People like you?' Humph.

**Uncle Vernon had roared, spraying Harry with spit.**

All: Eww!

Ginny: That is disgusting!

**Ron obviously realised that he'd got Harry into trouble, because he hadn't called again.**

George (sarcastically): That was nice of you.

**Harry's other best friend from Hogwarts, Hermione Granger, hadn't been in touch either.**

Hermione: I was busy!

Horace: It only takes a few minutes to write a quick letter.

Hermione: Humph.

Harry: You know (looking at Hermione and Minerva), you two are beginning to sound more and more alike every day.

**Harry suspected that Ron had warned Hermione not to call, **

Ron: I did not!

**which was a pity, because Hermione, the cleverest witch in Harry's year,**

Hermione blushes.

**had Muggle parents, knew perfectly well how to use a telephone, and would probably have had enough sense not to say that she went to Hogwarts.**

Hermione: Aww thanks Harry.

**So Harry had had no word from any of his wizarding friends for five long weeks, and this summer was turning out to be almost as bad as the last one.**

George: Glad that we saved you from that hell?

Harry: Very. Thanks for that.

George: No problem.

**There was just one, very small improvement: after swearing that he wouldn't use her to send letters to any of her friends, Harry had been allowed to let his owl, Hedwig, out at night. Uncle Vernon had given in because of the racket Hedwig made if she was locked in her cage all the time.**

Ginny: Well, I'm not surprised; you can't keep an owl cooped up like that.

Luna: I once had an uncle called Hedwig.

Neville: Really?

Luna: Yes. The wrackspurts took him away…

Ginny: Moving on.

**Harry finished writing about Wendelin the Weird and paused to listen again. The silence in the dark house was broken only by the distant, grunting snores of his enormous cousin, Dudley.**

Ron: Stupid tub of lard!

**It must be very late.**

Ron: Again, J.K. Rowling doesn't muck about, does she?

**Harry's eyes were itching with tiredness.**

Horace: Interesting wording.

**Perhaps he'd finish this essay tomorrow night…**

Minerva: Tut tut, Harry. Procrastinating is not a good thing.

Horace: You would say that, you end up having to finish paperwork every spare minute.

Minerva: If you leave it, it will just pile up. Anyway, are you insinuating that I don't have a life?

Horace: Well…

Ginny: I think I'll carry on, before we have a duel on our hands.

**He replaced the top of the ink bottle, pulled an old pillowcase from under his bed, put the torch, **_**A History of Magic,**_** his essay, quill and ink inside it, got out of bed and hid the lot under a loose floorboard under his bed. Then he stood up, stretched, and checked the time on the luminous alarm clock on his bedside table.**

Luna: You know, luminous things attract the Furry Darklops.

Harry: Do I even want to know?

**It was one o'clock in the morning.**

Minerva: One o'clock? Why I the world weren't you asleep?

Horace: Now, now Minerva, as I remember you were not a fan of going to sleep early when you were at Hogwarts.

(Minerva blushes and looks down at the table).

George: Oh really, Professor. Why would that be?

Horace: That, m'boy, is a tale for another time.

George: Oh, come on, I'm trying to gather blackmail material here.

Minerva: It'll never work.

George: Pray tell, why would that be?

Minerva: Because I have a lot more on you than you will ever have on me!

Harry: She has a point.

**Harry's stomach gave a funny jolt.**

Luna: Ouch.

Neville: Again Luna, it didn't really, it's just a phrase.

**He had been thirteen years old, without realising it, for a whole hour.**

**Yet another unusual thing about Harry was how little he looked forward to his birthdays. He had never received a birthday card in his life.**

Hermione: That's terrible!

Harry: I got used to it.

**The Dursleys had completely ignored his last two birthdays, and he had no reason to remember this one.**

Ron: One word.

George and Ron: GITS!

**Harry walked across the dark room, past Hedwig's large, empty cage, to the open window. He leant on the sill, the cool night air pleasant on his face after a long time under the blankets.**

Neville: That sounds so wrong.

(All look at Neville).

Neville: What?

**Hedwig had been absent for two nights now.**

Horace: My owl went missing for a fortnight once. It came back with a dozen dead rats.

(Ron just stares at him).

**Harry wasn't worried about her**

Ginny: Oh, well, that's nice!

**- she'd been gone this long before – but he hoped she'd be back soon. She was the only living creature in this house who didn't flinch at the sight of him.**

Neville: Can owls flinch?

**Harry, though still rather small and skinny for his age,**

Minerva: You really should eat more, Harry.

Harry (hissing very quietly): Look, we have already had this conversation!

(Minerva merely sips her Firewhiskey and gestures for Ginny to continue reading).

**had grown a few inches over the last year.**

Ron: Never got to be as tall as me though, did you?

**His jet-black hair, however, was just as it always had been: stubbornly untidy, whatever he did to it.**

Horace: Just like your father's.

Harry: I know, I know.

Minerva: Had a great head of hair, that boy.

Horace: So did Albus, hey, Minerva?

Minerva: Screw you, Walrus.

(All except Neville and Horace glance at Minerva).

**The eyes behind his glasses were bright green, and on his forehead, clearly visible through his hair, was a thin scar, shaped like a bolt of lightning.**

Luna: I love lightning.

**Of all the unusual things about Harry, this scar was the most extraordinary of all. It was not, as the Dursleys had pretended for ten years, a souvenir of the car crash that had killed Harry's parents, because Lily and James Potter had not died in a car crash.**

Minerva: Damn straight!

Harry: I do believe, Professor, that we are seeing a very different side to you today.

Horace: No, Harry m'boy, that is what she is like away from the students.

**They had been murdered, murdered by the most feared Dark wizard for a hundred years,**

Hermione: Actually, it was less than that.

Neville: More like sixty, at that time, wasn't it?

Minerva: Yes, Grindelwald wasn't defeated until 1945. Ms Rowling really should get her facts straight before writing these things.

**Lord Voldemort. Harry had escaped from the same attack with nothing more than a scar on his forehead, when Voldemort's curse, instead of killing him, had rebounded upon its originator. Barely alive, Voldemort had fled…**

George: Not for long though.

**But Harry had come face to face with him at Hogwarts. Remembering their last meeting as he stood at the dark window, Harry had to admit he was lucky even to have reached his thirteenth birthday.**

Hermione: Well done for that Harry, I don't think I ever said that to you.

Harry: Thanks Hermione.

**He scanned the starry sky for a sign if Hedwig, perhaps soaring back to him with a dead mouse dangling for her beak, expecting praise. Gazing absently over the rooftops, it was a few seconds before Harry realised what he was seeing.**

George: Is it a bird? Is it a plane? No, it's a flying Bowtruckle.

Ginny: Okay then…

**Silhouetted against the golden moon, **

Neville: Hang on, golden moon?

Luna: It's a rare occurrence; the moon appears a golden colour once every hundred years when it aligns with Mercury.

**and growing larger every moment, was a large, strangely lop-sided creature, and it was flapping in Harry's direction.**

George: Look out, Umbridge sprouted wings!

(Everyone, minus Horace and Luna, glares at George).

Minerva: If you value your life, you will not mention that name again. Unless, of course, you are insulting her.

**He stood quite still, watching it sink lower and lower. For a split second, he hesitated, his hand on the window-latch, wondering whether to slam it shut, but then the bizarre creature soared over one of the streetlamps of Privet Drive, and Harry, realising what it was, leapt aside.**

**Through the window soared three owls,**

George: Damn, I was kind of hoping it was something a bit more unusual.

Ginny: What? Is Harry's life not unusual enough already?

**two of them holding up the third, which appeared to be unconscious.**

Hermione: Oh no, the poor owl.

Ron: Wait, I think I know where this is going.

**They landed with a soft **_**flump **_**on Harry's bed, and the middle owl, which was large and grey, keeled right over and lay motionless. There was a large package tied to its leg.**

**Harry recognised the unconscious owl at once – his name was Errol, and he belonged to the Weasley family.**

Ron and George: Bloody bird!

Hermione: Well, he wasn't as bad as Pigwidgeon.

**Harry dashed to the bed at once, untied the cords around Errol's legs, took off the parcel and then carried Errol to Hedwig's cage. Errol opened one bleary eye, gave a feeble hoot of thanks, and began to gulp some water.**

**Harry turned back to the remaining owls. One of them, the large snowy female, was his own Hedwig.**

Minerva: She was a magnificent owl, Harry.

**She, too, was carrying a parcel, and looked extremely pleased with herself.**

Horace: How can an owl look pleased with itself?

**She gave Harry an affectionate nip with her beak as he removed her burden, then flew across the room to join Errol.**

**Harry didn't recognise the third owl, a handsome tawny owl, but he knew at once where it had come from, because in addition to a third parcel, it was carrying a letter bearing the Hogwarts crest.**

Harry: Was that a school owl?

Minerva: No, it was my one. Aretha was her name.

**When Harry relieved this owl of its post it ruffled his feathers importantly, stretched wings and took off through the window into the night.**

**Harry sat down on his bed, grabbed Errol's package, ripped off the brown paper and discovered a present wrapped in gold, and his first ever birthday card.**

George, Ginny and Ron all cheer.

**Fingers trembling slightly, he opened the envelope.**

George: What were you expecting, a rabid House Elf to jump out at you?

**Two pieces of paper fell out – a letter and a newspaper cutting.**

George: Aww, that's a bit of a let down.

**The cutting had clearly come out of the wizarding newspaper,**_** the Daily Prophet, **_**because the people in the black and white picture were moving. Harry picked up the cutting, smoothed it out and read:**

_**MINITRY OF MAGIC EMPLOYEE SCOOPS GRAND PRIZE**_

_**Arthur Weasley, Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, has won the annual **_**Daily Prophet**_** Grand Prize Galleon Draw.**_

_**A delighted Mr Weasley told the **_**Daily Prophet,**_** 'We will be spending the gold on a summer holiday in Egypt, where our eldest son, Bill, works as a curse breaker for Gringotts Wizarding Bank.'**_

Ginny: It was a wonderful holiday.

Ron: Yeah, it was nice to see Bill again.

Minerva: Bill was a wonderful student. You would have liked him Horace, probably would have added him to that Slug Club of yours.

_**The Weasley family will be spending a month in Egypt, returning for the start of the new school year at Hogwarts, which five of the Weasley children currently attend.**_

**Harry scanned the moving photograph, and a grin spread across his face as he saw all nine Weasleys waving furiously at him, standing in front of a large pyramid.**

Ron: Well, yeah, the pyramids did tend to be 'large'.

Hermione: Slave labour, that's what it was!

Neville: Calm down Hermione.

**Plump little Mrs Weasley,**

(Ron's ears turn red and George's knuckles crack).

**tall, balding Mr Weasley,**

(Ron and George look about ready to punch someone).

**six sons and one daughter,**

Ginny: Charming, can't be bothered to write our names.

Luna: Well, that would take up rather a lot of space.

(Ron growls).

**all (though the black and white picture didn't show it) with flaming red hair.**

Minerva: I like red hair.

Horace: You would. Dumbledore had red hair, didn't he?

Minerva: Yet again, screw you, Walrus.

**Right in the middle of the picture was Ron, tall and gangling,**

Ron: Lovely description!

**with his pet rat Scabbers on his shoulder and his arm around his little sister, Ginny.**

**Harry couldn't think of anyone who deserved to win a large pile of gold more than the Weasleys, who were very nice and extremely poor.**

George: Couldn't put it any nicer way, could she? I think I shall have to find this J.K. Rowling.

**He picked up Ron's letter and unfolded it.**

Harry: Riveting writing, really.

_**Dear Harry,**_

_**Happy Birthday!**_

_**Look, I'm really sorry about that telephone call. I hope the Muggles didn't give you a hard time.**_

Hermione: You did not honestly write that, did you?

(Ron blushes and suddenly becomes interested in his hands).

_**I asked Dad, and he reckons I shouldn't have shouted.**_

Neville: Really?

Ginny: Neville, did you just do sarcasm?

_**It's brilliant in Egypt. Bill's taken us around all the tombs and you wouldn't believe the curses those old Egyptian wizards put on them. Mum wouldn't let Ginny come in the last one.**_

Ginny: As much as I love Mum, she can be so over-protective sometimes.

George and Ron: Here, here!

_**There were all these mutant skeletons in there, of Muggles who'd broken in and grown extra heads and stuff.**_

Luna: That sounds disgusting!

_**I couldn't believe it when Dad won the Daily Prophet Draw. Seven hundred Galleons! Most f it's gone on this holiday, but they're going to buy me a new wand for next year.**_

Minerva: Thank Merlin! That wand was a nuisance.

**Harry remembered only too well the occasion when Ron's old wand had snapped. It had happened when the car the two of them had been flying to Hogwarts had crashed into a tree in the school grounds.**

Horace: That is such a strange sentence. If I hadn't just read the story of it, I would say that you must be going mad.

_**We'll be back about a week before term starts and we'll be going up to London to get my wand and our new books. Any chance of meeting you there?**_

_**Don't let the Muggles get you down!**_

_**Try and come to London,**_

_**Ron**_

_**P.S: Percy's Head Boy. He got the letter last week.**_

Ron: Pompous git!

George: Yeah, yeah, we know, little bro.

**Harry glanced back at the photograph. Percy, who was in his seventh and final year at Hogwarts, was looking particularly smug.**

George: Nope, that's a permanent fixture on his face.

**He had pinned his Head Boy badge to the fez perched jauntily on top of his neat hair, his horn-rimmed glasses flashing in the Egyptian sun.**

**Harry now turned to his present and unwrapped it. **

Ginny: Wow, there is a lot of padding in this book, isn't there?

**Inside was what looked like a miniature glass spinning top. There was another note from Ron beneath it.**

_**Harry - this is a pocket Sneakoscope. If there's someone untrustworthy around, it's supposed to light up and spin. Bill says its rubbish sold to wizard tourists and isn't reliable, because it kept lighting up at dinner last night.**_

Ron: No, it was completely right.

Horace: What do you mean?

Hermione: You'll find out soon enough.

_**But he didn't realise Fred and George had put beetles in his soup.**_

_**Bye – Ron.**_

George: Actually, it was dung beetles.

**Harry put the Pocket Sneakoscope on his bedside table, where it stood quite still, balanced in its point, reflecting the luminous hands of his clock.**

Harry: Cheers for that present, mate.

**He looked at it happily for a few seconds, then picked up the parcel Hedwig had brought.**

**Inside this, too, there was a wrapped present, a card and a letter, this time from Hermione.**

_**Dear Harry,**_

_**Ron wrote to me and told me about his phone call to your Uncle Vernon.**_

Ron: Oh, maybe I did warn Hermione about the call. Sorry mate.

_**I do hope you're all right.**_

Harry: Cheers for the concern!

_**I'm on holiday in France at the moment**_

Minerva: Which part of France did you visit?

Hermione: Paris.

Minerva: Oh, I prefer Strasbourg. I own a château in Alsace; you should all come and visit it one day.

Horace: I _will_ hold that against you. I will not forget.

Minerva: That is until you see a new box of crystallised pineapple.

Horace: Crystallised pineapple? Where?

Minerva: See?

_**and I didn't know how to send this to you – what if they'd opened it at Customs?**_

Luna: Customs?

Neville: I'll explain later, it'll take to long now.

_**but then Hedwig turned up! I think she wanted to make sure you got something for your birthday for a change.**_

George: I wish Errol was more like Hedwig.

Ron: What, so you'd get more presents?

George: No, just because she's so much cooler.

Ron: Are you feeling alright?

_**I bought your present by owl-order; there was an advertisement in the **_**Daily Prophet**_** (I've been getting it delivered, it's so good to keep up with what's going on in the wizarding world).**_

Harry: At least you were able to keep updated about it.

_**Did you see that picture of Ron and his family a week ago?**_

George: It would have been hard not to, what with Ron showing anybody he could.

_**I bet he's learning loads,**_

Ron: (snorts) As if.

_**I'm really jealous – the ancient Egyptian wizards were fascinating.**_

Ginny: Not if you've had Percy in your ear about them the whole time!

_**There's some interesting local history of witchcraft here, too. I've rewritten my whole History of Magic essay to include some of the things I've found out.**_

George: Only you would do that!

(Hermione blushes).

_**I hope it's not too long,**_

George: Nah, the longer the better with Binnsy! I mean, have you ever noticed how his lessons seem to last for years?

_**it's two rolls of parchment more than Professor Binns asked for.**_

Ron: Bloody hell!

Harry: But you couldn't have lent me any of it?

Hermione: No, that would be morally corrupt. You should learn your own lessons.

_**Ron says he's going to be in London in the last week of the holidays. Can you make it? Will your Aunt and Uncle let you come?**_

Harry: Oh yeah, if they keel over and die.

_**I really hope you can. If not, I'll see you on the Hogwarts Express on September the First!**_

_**Love from**_

_**Hermione.**_

_**P.S. Ron says Percy 's Head Boy.**_

Ron: He never stopped saying it.

_**I'll bet Percy's really pleased.**_

George: Oh yeah, _he_ was.

_**Ron doesn't seem too happy about it.**_

Ron: I was, until I heard it for the nine hundredth time.

Hermione: Stop exaggerating, Ron.

George: He's not. I kept a tally. It ended up at about two-thousand-six-hundred-and-ninety-eight times.

(All, apart from Minerva and Luna, laugh).

**Harry laughed again as he put Hermione's letter aside and picked up her present. It was very heavy. Knowing Hermione, he was sure it would be a large book full of very difficult spells**

Hermione: That would be a pointless idea; you'd never read it.

**- but it wasn't.**

Harry: Thank Merlin!

**His heart gave a huge bound as he ripped back the paper**

Horace:_ Very civilized. _

Harry: Leave me alone! I didn't get many presents!

**and saw a sleek black leather case with silver words stamped across it: **_**Broomstick Servicing Kit.**_

Minerva: Oh, how thoughtful.

Harry: Yeah, thanks Hermione.

"**Wow, Hermione!" Harry whispered,**

Ron: Err, you did know she couldn't hear you, right?

Harry: Yeah…

**unzipping the case to look inside.**

**There was a large jar of Fleetwood's High-Finish Handle Polish,**

Minerva: Personally, I prefer MacIntyre's Matt-Finish; gives the handle a bit of texture.

Horace: Wow, you really are obsessed!

Minerva: It was merely an observation, Horace.

**a pair of gleaming silver Tail-Twig Clippers, a tiny brass compass to clip onto your broomstick for long journeys, and a **_**Handbook of Do-it-Yourself Broomcare.**_

**Apart from his friends, the thing that Harry missed most about Hogwarts was Quidditch,**

Ron: What? Not us?

(Harry whistles and tries to look innocent).

Hermione: Listen to it properly Ronald, it said _'apart from his friends'._

Ron: Oh. Sorry.

**the most popular sport in the magical world – highly dangerous,**

Horace: Not if you watch where you're flying.

**very exciting and played on broomsticks.**

Harry: No kidding.

**Harry happened to be a very good Quidditch player;**

Minerva: Better than 'very good', just like your father.

(Harry blushes).

**he had been the youngest person in a century to be picked for one of the Hogwarts house teams. One of Harry's most treasured possessions was his Nimbus Two Thousand racing broom.**

Harry: Thanks for that, Professor.

Minerva: Well, I couldn't see my best player go out there on a heap of twigs, could I?

**Harry put the leather case aside and picked up his last parcel. He recognised the untidy scrawl on the brown paper at once: this was from Hagrid, the Hogwarts gamekeeper. He tore off the top layer of paper and glimpsed something green and leathery,**

Neville: Uh oh.

Ron: That doesn't sound good.

**but before he could unwrap it properly, the parcel gave a strange quiver, and whatever was inside it snapped loudly – as though it had jaws.**

Harry: It did.

Hermione: Oh! Was that…? Oh!

**Harry froze. He knew that Hagrid would never send him anything dangerous on purpose,**

George: Oh really?

**but then, Hagrid didn't have a normal person's view of what was dangerous.**

Ron: I would never have noticed.

**Hagrid had been known to befriend giant spiders,**

(Ron shudders).

**buy vicious, three-headed dogs**

George: And name them Fluffy!

Neville: Hang on, dogs? Plural? How many three-headed dogs are out there?

**from men in pubs and sneak illegal dragon eggs into his cabin.**

Minerva: His _wooden _cabin!

**Harry poked the parcel nervously. It snapped loudly again. Harry reached for the lamp on his bedside table, gripped it firmly in one hand and raised it over his head, ready to strike.**

Ginny: A lamp? That's the best you could do?

**Then he seized the rest of the wrapping paper in his other hand and pulled.**

George: And out jumped a rabid Flitwick!

Minerva: George!

George: Sorry.

**And out fell – a book.**

All (except Hermione): A book?

Hermione: Oh, it is!

Ron: It is what?

Hermione: The Monster Book of Monsters.

Ron: Oh yeah!

(Neville shudders).

**Harry just had time to register its handsome green cover, emblazoned with the golden title, **_**The Monster Book of Monsters,**_

Hermione: I told you.

**before it flipped onto its edge and scuttled side-ways along the bed like some weird crab.**

Horace: Merlin! We never had such lively books in my day!

Minerva: Yes, but in your day they didn't have fully functioning plumbing, either.

Horace: What exactly are you insinuating?

Minerva: You know what I mean.

"**Uh oh," Harry muttered.**

Ginny: 'Uh oh', indeed.

**The book toppled off the bed with a loud clunk and shuffled rapidly across the room.**

Neville: Oh no, they didn't wake up, did they?

**Harry followed it stealthily. The book was hiding in the dark space under his desk. Praying that the Dursleys were still fast asleep, Harry got down on his hands and knees and reached towards it.**

George: And it bit his hand off!

Harry (waving at him): Which is why I still have two perfectly adequate hands!

George: Oh yeah, sorry.

"**Ouch!"**

**The book snapped shut on his hand and then flapped past him, still scuttling on its covers.**

**Ron: You'll never catch it now!**

**Harry scrambled around, threw himself forward and managed to flatten it. Uncle Vernon gave a loud, sleepy grunt in the room next door.**

Ginny: That sounds like something he would do.

Harry: But he also sounds like that when he talks normally.

**Hedwig and Errol watched interestedly**

Luna: Can owls do that?

Hermione: Owls are intelligent birds, Luna.

**as Harry clamped the struggling book tightly in his arms, hurried to his chest of drawers and pulled out a belt, which he buckled tightly around it.**

George: Hey, you could have given that to your lump of a cousin to keep his tent-sized trousers up!

_**The Monster Book**_** shuddered angrily, but could no longer flap and snap, so Harry threw it down onto the bed and reached for Hagrid's card.**

_**Dear Harry,**_

_**Happy Birthday!**_

_**Think you might find this useful for next year. Won't say no more here.**_

Minerva and Hermione: Double negative.

Horace: Plus, with all the secrets he blew in the first book, he might as well have told you there and then.

_**Tell you when I see you.**_

_**Hope the Muggles are treating you right.**_

Harry: Pah! Of course they did!

_**All the best,**_

_**Hagrid.**_

**It struck Harry as ominous that Hagrid thought a biting book would come in useful, **

Ron: To Hagrid, everything that bites can come in useful. Especially if they like to bite people's heads off!

**but he put up Hagrid's card next to Ron and Hermione's, grinning more broadly than ever. Now there was only the letter from Hogwarts left.**

Minerva: That reminds me Horace, how is your niece? She should be coming here in September, shouldn't she?

Horace: You mean my great niece? Yes, she will be.

Minerva: I may have to have a private chat with her to talk about her great-uncle.

Horace: You wouldn't dare!

Minerva (raising an eyebrow): Wouldn't I?

**Noticing that it was rather thicker than usual, Harry slit open the envelope, pulled out the first page of parchment within and read:**

_**Dear Mr Potter,**_

_**Please note that the new school year will begin on September the first. **_

Harry: As usual.

_**The Hogwarts Express will leave from King's Cross Station, platform nine and three-quarters, at eleven o' clock.**_

Harry: Again, as usual. Honestly, why do you bother sending these letters every year; it never changes?

Minerva: I told you, I only charm the quill to do it. Dumbledore insisted that we send them, lest anyone forget.

_**Third-years are permitted to visit the village of Hogsmeade at certain weekends. Please give the enclosed permission form to your parent or guardian to sign.**_

Harry: Like they would. Did you honestly believe that?

Minerva: For the last time, I did not write it, the quill did!

_**A list of books for next year is enclosed.**_

_**Yours sincerely,**_

_**Professor M. McGonagall**_

_**Deputy Headmistress.**_

**Harry pulled out the Hogsmeade permission form and looked at it, no longer grinning. It would be wonderful to visit Hogsmeade at weekends; he knew it was an entirely wizarding village, and he had never set foot there. But how on earth was he going to persuade Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia to sign the form?**

George: You could put it next to a huge chocolate cake and refuse to give him any until he signs it.

Ron: Or you could stick it to your neighbours' fence so that your Aunt would spot it.

Hermione: Oh that's clever! What about when Harry's Muggle neighbours find it?

Ron: OH… yeah.

**Deciding that he'd worry about the Hogsmeade form when he woke up, Harry got back into bed and reached up to cross off another day on the chart he'd made for himself, counting down the days left until his return to Hogwarts. **

Neville: I used to do that, too!

Horace: Me too.

**Then he took off his glasses and lay down, eyes open, facing his three birthday cards.**

**Extremely unusual though he was, **

Hermione: Yes, we have said it several times.

**at that moment Harry was just like everyone else: glad, for the first time in his life, that it was his birthday.**

Luna: That's where the chapter ends. Who would like to read next?

Minerva: I think I will, if you have no objections?

And so they settled once again, ready for another chapter.


	2. JK Rowling Likes Waking People Up

Minerva picked up 'Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban' and began to read:

**Chapter Two - Aunt Marge's Big Mistake**

Harry: Err... do we have to read this chapter.

Minerva: Well, now I just want to read it more.

**Harry went down to breakfast the next morning to find the three Dursleys already sitting around the kitchen table. They were watching a brand-new television, a welcome-home-for-the-summer present for Dudley, **

Ron: Welcome-home-for-the-summer-present? What?

Harry: It was more of a bribe to make him stop his tantrums.

**who had been complaining loudly about the long walk between the fridge and the television in the living room. **

George: Lazy pig!

**Dudley had spent most of the summer in the kitchen, his piggy little eyes fixed on the screen and his five chins wobbling as he ate continually.**

Horace: That sounds disgusting.

(Minerva tries, unsuccessfully to cover her laughter with fake coughs).

Horace: What is so funny?

Minerva: Oh... nothing.

Horace: Do I look stupid?

Minerva: Do you really want me to answer that?

**Harry sat down between Dudley and Uncle Vernon, **

George: Don't, Harry, you'll be squashed!

**a large, beefy man with very little neck and a lot of moustache. Far from wishing Harry a happy birthday, **

Harry: I didn't expect them to.

**none of the Dursleys gave any sign that they had noticed Harry enter the room, **

Horace: Bottoms up!

(Horace and Minerva have another shot of Firewhiskey).

**but Harry was far too used to this to care. He helped himself to a piece of toast and then looked up at the newsreader on the television, who was halfway through a report on an escaped convict.**

**"...the public is warned that Black **

Neville: Oh no. That was on the Muggle news?

Hermione: Yes, my parents were ever so worried about it.

**is armed and extremely dangerous. A special hotline has been set up, and any sighting of Black should be reported immediately."**

**"No need to tell us **_**he's**_** no good," snorted Uncle Vernon, staring over the top of his newspaper at the prisoner. "Look at the state of him, the filthy layabout! **

(Harry growls).

Ginny: Calm down, Harry, his opinion means nothing, remember?

**Look at his hair!"**

George: He looked a right sight better than your family of gits.

**He shot a nasty sideways look at Harry, whose untidy hair had always been a source of great annoyance to Uncle Vernon. **

Harry: At least I didn't look like his_ little _blond gorilla.

Ron: For the fiftieth time, he is not _LITTLE!_

**Compared to the man on the television, however, whose gaunt face was surrounded by a matted, elbow-length tangle, Harry felt very well-groomed indeed.**

Ron: Trust me, we all did.

**The newsreader had reappeared. **

Luna: Hooray!

**"The Ministry of Agriculture and Fisheries will announce today-"**

**"Hang on,"**

Luna: Hey! I wanted to hear what he had to say.

Hermione: You're the only one who did, Luna.

**barked Uncle Vernon, staring furiously at the newsreader. "You didn't tell us where that maniac's escaped from! What use is that? Lunatic could be coming up the street right now!"**

Horace: Yes, because if I was an escaped convict, I would be running through the streets in broad daylight, too!

**Aunt Petunia, who was bony and horse-faced, whipped around and peered intently out of the kitchen window. Harry knew Aunt Petunia would simply love to be the one to call the hotline number. She was the nosiest woman in the world **

George: Too true.

**and spent most of her life spying on her boring, law-abiding neighbours.**

**"When will they **_**learn," **_**said Uncle Vernon, pounding the table with his large purple fist, "that hanging's the only way to deal with these people?"**

Minerva: But it's not!

**"Very true," said Aunt Petunia, who was still squinting into next door's runner-beans.**

George: Nosy git.

**Uncle Vernon drained his teacup, glanced at his watch and added, "I'd better be off in a minute, Petunia, Marge's train gets in at ten."**

Harry: Why couldn't it have crashed?

(Everyone else gasps).

Harry: What? You haven't heard about her yet.

**Harry, whose thoughts had been upstairs with the broomstick servicing kit, was brought back to earth with an unpleasant bump.**

**"Aunt Marge?" he blurted out. "Sh-**_**she's **_**not coming, is she?"**

Ginny: Looks like it, doesn't it?

**Aunt Marge was Uncle Vernon's sister. Even though she was not a blood relative of Harry's (whose mother had been Aunt Petunia's sister), he had been forced to call her 'Aunt' all his life. **

Ron: Poor guy.

**Aunt Marge lived in the country, in a house with a large garden, **

George: She wouldn't fit in it, otherwise.

**where she bred bulldogs. **

Minerva: Awful little creatures.

**She didn't often stay in Privet Drive **

Harry: Thank the Lord!

**because she couldn't bear to leave her precious dogs, but each of her visits stood out horribly vividly in Harry's mind.**

Luna: That doesn't sound good?

**At Dudley's fifth birthday party, Aunt Marge had whacked Harry around the shins with her walking stick to stop him beating Dudley at musical statues. **

Minerva: How petty is that?

Harry: Oh, it gets worse!

**A few years later, she had turned up at Christmas with a computerised robot for Dudley and a box of dog biscuits for Harry. **

Hermione: I'm so sorry for you, Harry.

Harry: I don't need your sympathy. She got her comeuppance, anyway.

**On her last visit, the year before Harry had started at Hogwarts, Harry had accidentally trodden on the paw of her favourite dog. **

Neville: Oh no.

**Ripper **

Hermione: Ripper? Sounds like a nice dog.

**had chased Harry out into the garden and up a tree, **

(Ron laughs so much that he spits out his butterbeer, which sprays all over the table).

Hermione (waving her wand to clean the table): RONALD!

**and Aunt Marge had refused to call him off until past midnight. **

Ginny: Evil cow!

**The memory of this incident still brought tears of laughter to Dudley's eyes.**

(George cracks his knuckles once again).

**"Marge'll be here for a week," Uncle Vernon snarled, "and while we're on the subject," he pointed a fat finger threateningly at Harry, **

Horace: It would be more threatening if it was a wand.

Minerva: And where, pray tell, would he acquire a wand from?

Horace: I was merely commenting on the nature of –

Minerva: Can I carry on with the story?

**"we need to get a few things straight before I go and collect her."**

Neville: Oh no. I seem to be saying that a lot, don't I?

**Dudley smirked and withdrew his gaze from the television. **

Ginny: (Gasp) It's a miracle!

**Watching Harry being bullied by Uncle Vernon was Dudley's favourite form of entertainment.**

George: Git.

Horace: I'll drink to that one, I think.

Minerva: I think I'll join you.

Ron: How are you two not wasted?

Minerva: All the time in between the Dursley parts give us a bit of time to sober up. Anyway – on with the story!

**"Firstly," growled Uncle Vernon," you'll keep a civil tongue in your head when you're talking to Marge."**

Hermione: Why do I doubt that will happen?

George: Oh, ye of little faith…

**"All right," said Harry bitterly, "if she does when she's talking to me."**

Ron: Like that was going to happen.

**"Secondly," said Uncle Vernon, acting as though he had not heard Harry's reply, "as Marge doesn't know anything about your **_**abnormality, **_

Minerva: Abnormality, my arse!

**I don't want any -any f**_**unny **_**stuff while she's here. **

George: If he thinks he's seen funny, he needs to meet me.

Harry: He already has, remember?

George: Oh… yeah! Ha!

Horace: Something you want to tell us, Mr Weasley?

George: No, no, no…

**You behave yourself, got me?"**

**"I will if she does," said Harry through gritted teeth.**

Hermione: That was mature!

**"And thirdly," said Uncle Vernon, his mean little eyes now slits in his great purple face, "we've told Marge you attend St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys."**

Weasleys: WHAT?

**"**_**What**_**?" Harry yelled.**

**"And you'll be sticking to that story, boy, or there'll be trouble," spat Uncle Vernon.**

Minerva: I would like to see him try.

**Harry sat there, white-faced and furious, staring at Uncle Vernon, hardly able to believe it. Aunt Marge coming for a week-long visit - it was the worst birthday present the Dursleys had ever given him, including that pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.**

Luna: I think I would rather have the socks, too.

**"Well, Petunia," said Uncle Vernon, getting heavily to his feet, "I'll be off to the station, then. Want to come along for the ride, Dudders?"**

**"No," said Dudley, whose attention had returned to the television now that Uncle Vernon had finished threatening Harry.**

Neville: Stupid lump.

**"Duddy's got to make himself smart for his auntie," **

Minerva: He'll need more than a week for that!

**said Aunt Petunia, smoothing Dudley's thick blonde hair, "Mummy's bought him a lovely new bow-tie."**

(George snorts).

**Uncle Vernon clapped Dudley on his porky shoulder. "See you in a bit, then," he said, and he left the kitchen.**

**Harry, who had been sitting in a kind of horrified trance, had a sudden idea. **

Ron: That makes a change.

Hermione: RONALD!

Ron: Stop calling me that!

Ginny: All right you two, we don't want a domestic in here, thank you!

**Abandoning his toast, he got quickly to his feet and followed Uncle Vernon to the front door.**

**Uncle Vernon was pulling on his car coat.**

Luna: Car coat?

Harry: Don't worry, Luna, I've never heard of one, either.

"**I'm not taking **_**you," **_**he snarled, as he turned to see Harry watching him.**

Harry: As if.

"**Like I wanted to come," said Harry coldly. "I want to ask you something."**

**Uncle Vernon eyed him suspiciously. "Third-years at Hog – at my school **

Neville: That was close.

**are allowed to visit the village sometimes," said Harry.**

"**So?" snapped Uncle Vernon, taking his car keys from a hook next to the door.**

George: Work it out you great pig!

"**I need you to sign the permission form," said Harry in a rush.**

"**And why should I do that?" sneered Uncle Vernon.**

"**Well," said Harry, choosing his words carefully, "it'll be hard work, pretending to Aunt Marge that I go to that St Whatsits…"**

Horace: I see where you're going with this. Schemes come quickly to you, don't they?

"**St Brutus's Secure Centre for Incurably Criminal Boys!" bellowed Uncle Vernon, and Harry was pleased to hear a definite note of panic in Uncle Vernon's voice.**

Harry: No, he just sounds like that anytime he spends more than five minutes apart from the fridge.

"**Exactly," said Harry, looking calmly up into Uncle Vernon's large purple face. "It's a lot to remember. I'll have to make it sound convincing, won't I? What if I accidentally let something slip?"**

George: I'm proud of you, Harry.

"_**You'll get the stuffing knocked out of you, won't you?"**_** roared Uncle Vernon,**

Minerva: WHAT? HE'D BETTER NOT LAY A BLOODY FINGER ON YOU!!

**advancing on Harry with his fist raised. **

(All glare at book, yet again!).

**But Harry stood his ground.**

"**Knocking the stuffing out of me won't make Aunt Marge forget what I could tell her," he said grimly.**

Ron: Sneaky.

**Uncle Vernon stopped, his fist still raised, his face an ugly puce.**

"**But if you sign my permission form," Harry went on quickly, "I swear I'll remember where I'm supposed to go to school, and I'll act like a Mug**

Ron: Don't say it!

– **like I'm normal and everything."**

Neville: Another close call, Harry.

**Harry could tell that Uncle Vernon was thinking it over, even if his teeth were bared and a vein was throbbing in his temple.**

Hermione: I should imagine that happened every time he attempted to think.

"**Right," he snapped finally, "I shall monitor your behaviour carefully during Marge's visit. If, at the end of it, you've toed the line and kept to the story, I'll sign your ruddy form."**

Horace: Blackmail? Nice idea, Harry, m'boy.

**He wheeled around, pulled open the front door and slammed it so hard that one of the little panes of glass at the top fell out.**

Ginny: Has anybody else noticed that J.K. Rowling seems to be very fond of the word 'little'?

**Harry didn't return to the kitchen. **

Luna: Good idea.

**He went back upstairs to his bedroom. If he was going to act like a real Muggle, he'd better start now. Slowly and sadly, he gathered up all his presents and his birthday cards and hid them under the loose floorboard with his homework. **

Hermione: It must have been a very big loose floorboard.

**Then he went to Hedwig's cage. Errol seemed to have recovered; **

George: Damn!

**he and Hedwig were both asleep, heads under their wings. Harry sighed, then poked them both awake.**

Neville: J.K. Rowling really is brimming with annoying ways to wake people up, isn't she?

"**Hedwig," he said gloomily, "you're going to have to clear off for a week. **

Ginny: Charming!

**Go with Errol, Ron'll look after you. I'll write him a note, explaining. And don't look at me like that" – Hedwig's large amber eyes were reproachful, **

Minerva: I invented that look.

Horace: I'm sure you didn't.

Minerva: Believe what you like, Walrus, I just hope you like waking up with dead birds on your pillow.

"**it's not my fault. It's the only way I'll be allowed to visit Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione."**

Ron: Yet you still didn't!

**Ten minutes later, Errol and Hedwig (who had a note to Ron bound to her leg) soared out of the window and out of sight. Harry, now feeling thoroughly miserable, put the empty cage away inside the wardrobe.**

Ginny: Aww. Cheer up, Harry.

**But Harry didn't have long to brood. In next to no time, Aunt Petunia was shrieking up the stairs for Harry to come down and get ready to welcome their guest.**

Hermione: At least they didn't pretend you didn't exist.

"**Do something about your hair!" Aunt Petunia snapped as he reached the hall.**

Ron: What's the point? It wouldn't work.

**Harry couldn't see the point of trying to make his hair lie flat. Aunt Marge loved criticising him, so the untidier he looked, the happier she would be.**

Luna: That's thoughful of you.

**All too soon, there a crunch of gravel outside as Uncle Vernon's car pulled back into the driveway, then the clunk of the car doors, and footsteps on the garden path.**

George: Run while you still can!

"**Get the door!" Aunt Petunia hissed at Harry.**

**A feeling of great gloom in his stomach, Harry pulled the door open.**

**On the threshold stood Aunt Marge. She was very like Uncle Vernon; large, beefy and purple-faced, she even had a moustache, though not as bushy as his.**

(Minerva and Hermione stare, wide-eyed, at the book).

Minerva: OH.

Hermione: MY.

Minerva: LORD! That is just wrong.

George: She sounds delightful.

Ginny: Sounds more like she should be called Helga or even Martin.

**In one hand she held an enormous suitcase, and tucked under the other was an old and evil-tempered bulldog.**

"**Where's my Dudders?" roared Aunt Marge. "Where's my neffy poo?"**

Minerva: I hate this woman already.

Horace: Don't judge a book by its cover, Minerva.

Minerva: I'm not, the woman is related to Vernon Dursley and have you heard the things she said?

**Dudley came waddling down the hall, his blond hair plastered flat to his fat head, a bow-tie just visible under his many chins. **

Neville: Nice!

**Aunt Marge thrust the suitcase into Harry's stomach, knocking the wind out of him, seized Dudley in a tight one-armed hug**

George: And squeezed him to death like a huge purple boa constrictor!

**and planted a large kiss on his cheek.**

George: DAMN!

**Harry knew perfectly well that Dudley only put up with Aunt Marge's hugs because he was well paid for it, and sure enough, when they broke apart, Dudley had a crisp twenty-pound note clutched in his fat fist.**

Horace: Bribery never works properly, I prefer blackmail, if I'm honest.

Minerva: What? I-I… you know what, I don't even want to know.

"**Petunia!" shouted Aunt Marge, striding past Harry as though he was a hat-stand. **

Harry: I'd rather she did, to be truthful.

**Aunt Marge and Aunt Petunia kissed, or rather, Aunt Marge bumped her large jaw against Aunt Petunia's bony cheekbone.**

Hermione: Bony cheekbone? Couldn't she come up with anything better than that?

**Uncle Vernon now came in, smiling jovially as he shut the door.**

Neville: Sure it wasn't a grimace?

"**Tea, Marge?" he said. "And what will Ripper take?"**

"**Ripper can have some tea out of my saucer," **

Luna: That's disgusting.

**said Aunt Marge, as they all trooped back to the kitchen, leaving Harry alone in the hall with the suitcase. But Harry wasn't complaining; any excuse not to be with Aunt Marge was fine by him, **

Rom: I think anyone would agree with that.

**so he began to heave the case upstairs into the spare bedroom, taking as long as he could.**

**By the time he got back to the kitchen, Aunt Marge had been supplied with tea and fruitcake and Ripper was lapping noisily in the corner. **

Harry: That was nothing compared to the sound Marge made when she was drinking. It was a great big slurp.

**Harry saw Aunt Petunia wince slightly as specks of tea and drool flecked her clean floor. **

Minerva: Loosen up a bit!

(All (apart from Horace) stare at her).

Minerva: What?

George: You have no idea how strange that sounds coming from you.

**Aunt Petunia hated animals.**

"**Who's looking after the other dogs, Marge?" Uncle Vernon asked.**

"**Oh, I've got Colonel Fubster managing them,"**

Ginny: Fubster? What kind of a name is that?

George: A stupid one.

**boomed Aunt Marge. "He's retired now, good for him to have something to do. But I couldn't leave poor old Ripper. He pines if he's away from me."**

Hermione: I find that hard to believe.

**Ripper began to growl again as Harry sat down. This directed Aunt Marge's attention to Harry for the first time.**

Neville: Urgh! Why?

"**So!" she barked. "Still here, are you?"**

Ginny: Looks like it.

"**Yes," said Harry.**

"**Don't you say 'yes' in that ungrateful tone," Aunt Marge growled. "It's damn good of Vernon and Petunia to keep you. **

Horace: If only they had done it properly.

**Wouldn't have done it myself. You'd have gone straight to an orphanage if you'd been dumped on **_**my**_** doorstep."**

Harry: I'd take the orphanage any day.

**Harry was bursting to say that he'd rather live in an orphanage than with the Dursleys, but the thought of the Hogsmeade form stopped him. He forced his face into a painful smile.**

"**Don't you smirk at me!" **

Minerva: Oh, come on! She's just trying to find things wrong with you.

**boomed Aunt Marge. "I can see you haven't improved since I last saw you. I hoped school would knock some manners into you." She took a large gulp of tea, wiped her moustache **

Ginny: Eww.

**and said, "Where is it that you send him, again, Vernon?"**

"**St Brutus's," said Uncle Vernon promptly. "It's a first-rate institution for hopeless cases."**

Hermione: Hopeless cases? Maybe his son should be going there.

"**I see," said Aunt Marge. "Do they use the cane at St Brutus's, boy?" she barked across the table.**

"**Er -"**

**Uncle Vernon nodded curtly behind Aunt Marge's back.**

"**Yes," said Harry. **

Ron: I would have said no. I would have told them that I spent all day painting rainbows and singing songs about peace and joy.

Harry: Yeah, well, I wasn't on a death wish.

**Then, feeling he might as well do the thing properly, he added, "All the time."**

"**Excellent," said Aunt Marge, "I won't have this namby-pamby wishy-washy nonsense about not hitting people who deserve it. **

Minerva: What is wrong with that woman?

George: _Woman?_

**A good thrashing is what's needed in ninety-nine cases out of a hundred. **

Horace: That is awful.

**Have **_**you**_** been beaten often?"**

"**Oh, yeah," said Harry, "loads of times."**

Horace: I cannot believe you said that.

**Aunt Marge narrowed her eyes.**

"**I still don't like your tone, boy," she said. "If you can speak of your beatings in that casual way, they clearly aren't hitting you hard enough. **

(Hermione gasps).

**Petunia, I'd write if I were you. Make it clear that you approve the use of extreme force in this boy's case."**

(Minerva starts bashing her head with her palm).

**Perhaps Uncle Vernon was worried that Harry might forget their bargain; in any case, he changed the subject abruptly.**

"**Heard the news this morning, Marge? What about that escaped prisoner, eh?" **

George: Way to change the subject.

**As Aunt Marge started to make herself at home, Harry caught himself thinking almost longingly of life at number four without her. **

George: Careful, Harry, you're starting to sound a bit mental.

**Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia usually encouraged Harry to stay out of their way, which Harry was only too happy to do. Aunt Marge, on the other hand, wanted Harry under her eye at all times, **

Harry: Unfortunately.

**so that she could boom out suggestions for his improvement. **

Ginny: Like she can talk.

**She delighted in comparing Harry with Dudley, and took huge pleasure in buying Dudley expensive presents while glaring at Harry, as though daring him to ask why he hadn't got a present too. **

Harry: I wouldn't, I never expected presents from her. That would be raising my hopes for nothing.

**She also kept throwing out dark hints about what made Harry such an unsatisfactory person.**

Hermione: She should really take a look at her own family.

Horace: Blood is thicker than water.

Minerva: Not always, Horace... not always.

"**You mustn't blame yourself for the way the boy's turned out, Vernon," she said over lunch on the third day, "If there's something rotten on the **_**inside**_**, there's nothing you can do about it."**

Ginny: THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH HIM!!

**Harry tried to concentrate on his food, but his hands shook and his face was starting to burn with anger.**_** Remember the form, **_**he told himself. **_**Think about Hogsmeade. Don't say anything. Don't rise – **_

Ron: It won't work.

**Aunt Marge reached for her glass of wine.**

"**It's one of the basic rules of breeding," she said, "You see it all the time with dogs. If there's something wrong with the bitch, there'll be something wrong with the pup -"**

(Weasleys, Minerva, Horace and Neville all growl).

**At that moment, the wine glass Aunt Marge was holding exploded in her hand. Shards of glass flew in every direction **

George: DUCK!

Ron: Where?

(Hermione hits Ron around the back of his head).

**and Aunt Marge spluttered and blinked, her great ruddy face dripping.**

"**Marge!" squealed Aunt Petunia. "Marge, are you all right?"**

George: A little bit of glass isn't going to affect a woman of her size.

"**Not to worry," grunted Aunt Marge, mopping her face with her napkin. "Must have squeezed it too hard. Did the same thing at Colonel Fubster's the other day. No need to fuss, Petunia, I have a very firm grip…"**

Hermione: And Harry doesn't have a very good hold on his temper.

**But Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon were both looking at Harry suspiciously, so he decided he'd better skip pudding and escape from the table as soon as he could.**

George: Good idea.

**Outside in the hall, he leant against the wall, breathing deeply. It had been a long time since he'd lost control and made something explode. He couldn't afford to let it happen again. The Hogsmeade form wasn't the only thing at stake – if he carried on like that, he'd be in trouble with the Ministry of Magic.**

Neville: But with Fudge in charge, it wouldn't make too much of a difference.

**Harry was still an underage wizard, and he was forbidden by wizard law to do magic outside school. His record wasn't exactly clean, either. **

Harry: You can say that again... Don't actually say it, Ron.

**Only last summer he'd got an official warning which had stated quite clearly that if the Ministry got wind of any more magic in Privet Drive, Harry would face expulsion from Hogwarts.**

Hermione: Even though he didn't do any magic.

**He heard the Dursleys leaving the table and hurried upstairs out of the way.**

**Harry got through the next three days by forcing himself to think about his Handbook of Do-It-Yourself Broomcare whenever Aunt Marge started on him. **

Hermione: Good plan.

**This worked quite well, though it seemed to give him a glazed look, because Aunt Marge started voicing the opinion that he was mentally subnormal.**

Minerva: I think she should start worrying about her nephew before she starts on your mental health.

**At last, at long last, the final evening of Marge's stay arrived.**

Harry: THANK HEAVENS!

**Aunt Petunia cooked a fancy dinner and Uncle Vernon uncorked several bottles of wine. They got all the way through the soup and the salmon without a single mention of Harry's faults; **

Harry: Hoorah!

**during the lemon meringue pie, Uncle Vernon bored them a with a long talk about Grunnings, his drill-making company; **

Ron: What is so interesting about drills?

**then Aunt Petunia made coffee and Uncle Vernon brought out a bottle of brandy.**

"**Can I tempt you, Marge?"**

George: You could tempt her with a piece of chocolate on a string.

**Aunt Marge had already had quite a lot of wine. Her huge face was very red.**

Horace: For a big woman, she seems like rather a light-weight.

"**Just a small one, then," she chuckled. "A bit more than that… and a bit more… that's the ticket."**

**Dudley was eating his fourth slice of pie. **

Minerva and Hermione:_ FOURTH?_

**Aunt Petunia was sipping coffee with her little finger sticking out. **

Ron: Posh much?

**Harry really wanted to disappear into his bedroom, but he met Uncle Vernon's angry little eyes and knew he would have to sit it out.**

George: DAMN!

"**Aah," said Aunt Marge, smacking her lips and putting the empty brandy glass back down. "Excellent nosh, Petunia. It's normally just a fry-up for me of an evening, with twelve dogs to look after…" She burped richly **

All: EWW!

**and patted her great tweed stomach. "Pardon me. But I do like to see a healthy-sized boy," she went on, winking at Dudley.**

Ginny: That's not healthy-sized.

"**You'll be a proper-sized man, Dudders, like your father. **

Neville: If you can call that 'proper-sized'.

**Yes, I'll have a spot more brandy, Vernon…"**

"**Now, this one here —"**

**She jerked her head at Harry, who felt his stomach clench. The Handbook, he thought quickly.**

Ron: Harry, there really was no point in trying to keep calm; you knew she was going to go too far.

"**This one's got a mean, runty look about him. You get that with dogs. I had Colonel Fubster drown one last year. **

(Hermione and Ginny gasp).

Hermione: That's just wrong.

**Ratty little thing it was. Weak. Underbred."**

**Harry was trying to remember page twelve of his book: A Charm to Cure Reluctant Reversers.**

"**It all comes down to blood, as I was saying the other day. Bad blood will out. **

Minerva: HE DOESN'T HAVE _BAD BLOOD!_

**Now, I'm saying nothing against your family, Petunia" — she patted Aunt Petunia's bony hand with her shovel-like one **

George: And half-crushed it while she was there.

"**but your sister was a bad egg. **

Horace: She was not!

**They turn up in the best families. Then she ran off with a wastrel **

Luna: Wastrel?

Hermione: A deadbeat, good-for-nothing, loafer, waster...

Harry: Please stop.

**and here's the result right in front of us."**

**Harry was staring at his plate, a funny ringing in his ears. Grasp your broom firmly by the tail, he thought. **

Horace: Why would you be thinking that?

Minerva: He's trying to think of something happy.

**But he couldn't remember what came next. Aunt Marge's voice seemed to be boring into him like one of Uncle Vernon's drills.**

Ginny: Gah! More drills!

"**This Potter," said Aunt Marge loudly, seizing the brandy bottle and splashing more into her glass and over the tablecloth, "you never told me what he did?"**

George: There's a good reason for that.

**Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were looking extremely tense. Dudley had even looked up from his pie to gape at his parents.**

Hermione: Oh no.

"**He — didn't work," said Uncle Vernon, with half a glance at Harry. **

(Ron and Harry turn very red).

"**Unemployed."**

"**As I expected!" said Aunt Marge, taking a huge swig of brandy and wiping her chin on her sleeve. "A no-account, good-for-nothing, lazy scrounger who —"**

"**He was not," said Harry suddenly. The table went very quiet.**

As did the one in the Room of Requirement.

**Harry was shaking all over. He had never felt so angry in his life.**

"**MORE BRANDY!" **

Horace: That's right, get her drunk.

**yelled Uncle Vernon, who had gone very white. He emptied the bottle into Aunt Marge's glass. "You, boy," he snarled at Harry. "Go to bed, go on —"**

"**No, Vernon," hiccupped Aunt Marge, holding up a hand, her tiny bloodshot eyes fixed on Harry's. "Go on, boy, go on. Proud of your parents, are you?**

Ron: Of course he bloody is!

**They go and get themselves killed in a car crash (drunk, I expect) —"**

(Silence).

Minerva: Oh Merlin!

"**They didn't die in a car crash!" said Harry, who found himself on his feet.**

"**They died in a car crash, you nasty little liar, **

Ginny: Harry, I-I'm so sorry.

**and left you to be a burden on their decent, hardworking relatives!" **

Ron: They couldn't be decent if they TRIED!!

**screamed Aunt Marge, swelling with fury. "You are an insolent, ungrateful little —"**

George: I am going to hex that woman into next century if I ever get my hands on her.

**But Aunt Marge suddenly stopped speaking. **

Minerva: It's a miracle!

**For a moment, it looked as though words had failed her. **

Harry: If only.

**She seemed to be swelling with inexpressible anger — but the swelling didn't stop. **

**Her great red face started to expand, her tiny eyes bulged, and her mouth stretched too tightly for speech — next second, several buttons had just burst from her tweed jacket and pinged off the walls — she was inflating like a monstrous balloon, her stomach bursting free of her tweed waistband, **

Harry: It was before the accidental magic.

**each of her fingers blowing up like a salami…**

Weasleys: GO HARRY!!

"**MARGE!" yelled Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia together as Aunt Marge's whole body began to rise off her chair toward the ceiling. **

George: Hey, I could use this as a new prank for the shop.

**She was entirely round, now, like a vast life buoy with piggy eyes, and her hands and feet stuck out weirdly as she drifted up into the air, making apoplectic popping noises. **

(All laugh).

**Ripper came skidding into the room, barking madly.**

"**NOOOOOOO!"**

Wealeys: YEEEEEES!

**Uncle Vernon seized one of Marge's feet and tried to pull her down again, but was almost lifted from the floor himself. **

George: I find that unlikely.

**A second later, Ripper leapt forward and sank his teeth into Uncle Vernon's leg.**

Horace: How come I never heard about this?

Harry: Fudge hushed it all up.

(Minerva mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'incompetent moron' - or was it 'covered in boron'? – I don't know, you can decide for yourself.)

**Harry tore from the dining room before anyone could stop him, heading for the cupboard under the stairs. The cupboard door burst magically open as he reached it. In seconds, he had heaved his trunk to the front door. He sprinted upstairs and threw himself under the bed, wrenching up the loose floorboard, and grabbed the pillowcase full of his books and birthday presents. **

Horace: UH OH.

**He wriggled out, seized Hedwig's empty cage, and dashed back downstairs to his trunk, just as Uncle Vernon burst out of the dining room, his trouser leg in bloody tatters.**

Neville: Serves him right.

"**COME BACK IN HERE!" he bellowed. "COME BACK AND PUT HER RIGHT!"**

George: Fat chance.

**But a reckless rage had come over Harry. **

Hermione: That's never a good thing.

Horace: Your temper is too much like our fathers'.

**He kicked his trunk open, pulled out his wand, and pointed it at Uncle Vernon.**

"**She deserved it," Harry said, breathing very fast. "She deserved what she got. You keep away from me."**

**He fumbled behind him for the latch on the door.**

"**I'm going," **

Ron: At last!

**Harry said. "I've had enough."**

**And in the next moment, he was out in the dark, quiet street, heaving his heavy trunk behind him, Hedwig's cage under his arm.**

Minerva: End of chapter. I can't believe you ran away.

Harry: Didn't Dumbledore tell you?

Minerva: Of course he did, but I still can't believe it.

Hermione: I'll read next.


End file.
